


ember

by ShadowAphelion



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, willow gets a dragon baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowAphelion/pseuds/ShadowAphelion
Summary: “She’s...perfect.”





	ember

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the don't starve rp group i'm in! (ty famine friends)

“She’s...perfect.”

 

Willow fondled the small lavae with care as she lifted it onto her lap. The lava was warm and dripping down her arms, but overall it seemed to be coherent and possessed a gelatin-like quality. It didn't scorch her like it did to the others. 

 

She had left Wilson in charge of babysitting the egg. He looked like he needed something to do, and she was way too busy with stupid camp chores to actually take care of it, and he did seem to want to show Ms. Wickerbottom how responsible he was. So, Willow decided she’d kill three birds with one stone!

 

When the lavae hatched, he brought the baby to her straight away, rambling words of excitement and affection: they were parents! She wished she had the time to have watched pretty fires with it, but it made Wilson really happy. And if Wilson was happy, she was happy! 

 

Wilson said the lavae was a girl. Willow wanted to put a cute little bow on top of her cute little head. 

 

Together, the two sat in camp as they lovingly examined their new baby. She planted kisses on her goopy face. “My own little burninator.”

 

She handed the baby to Wilson. It wriggled and squirmed in his gloved hands and he looked like he was gonna cry. “Aww, who’s a good monster?” 

 

Willow smacked him playfully.

 

“Do you like her?” Willow asked.

 

He sniffed once. “Of course I do! She’s adorable.” The lavae seemed to chirp happily at this and nuzzled against Wilson. His wide grin spoke of a very proud parent.

 

In the midst of their bonding, they failed to hear the quiet tapping of footsteps against the floorboard.

 

“Dears, I don’t suppose you’d mind taking care of your pet outside of camp? Its flammable properties impose a great risk. Wouldn't want our home burning down, would we?” 

 

The couple looked up from their distraction. Ms. Wickerbottom was examining their baby with a curious stare and was tapping her heel disapprovingly. Aww, but they weren't even doing anything wrong!

 

Willow stood up and brushed the dust and embers from her skirt. “She’s not a pet!”

 

“That doesn’t change the risk at hand, dear.” The elder woman’s harsh glare turned to meet Willow’s eyes. Defeated, Willow kept her head down, knowing she could not win an argument, and wordlessly moved to the outskirts of their camp. Wilson followed in suit, mumbling quietly to the baby who began to wriggle restlessly in his grasp. Out here, the walls were short and in need of repairing. There were few things to burn. Sticks and shrubs, but nothing truly exciting, like a big, dense forest. 

 

“I don’t see why we gotta do this. Doesn't she trust us?” Willow wondered if Ms. Wickerbottom’s suggestion was directed towards her rather than her responsible scientist. 

 

Wilson shrugged. “She’s got a point. Our lavae  _ does  _ seem to be highly flammable…” His voice trailed off. He was watching the baby burn saplings as they spoke. 

 

“Aww!” She knelt down and gave her soft, encouraging pats.

 

He cleared his throat. “It’s no issue for me to take care of her out here. Though, I do wonder how i’ll be able to gather food for myself. And with winter approaching..”

 

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! I can stop by every day and give you some,” she said with a smile beginning to curl at the corners of her mouth, “and I can visit my baby!”

 

Wilson seemed satisfied with this idea. The lavae rested in a crisp black circle, tired and sleepy, already having burned everything around it. 

 

“She’s just like you,” he said with complete adoration. Willow was sure his cold heart had melted, then. 

 

She saw something approaching in the corner of her eye. She didn’t realize how tense she was until her shoulders relaxed - it was just her friend. Gee, her motherly instincts kicked in already!

 

“Wolfgang, c’mere! I wanna show you something.” 

 

The Strongman gasped. He crouched down to get a better look, hands finding a comfortable position on his knees. “Ah! Is tiny baby!” 

 

“Isn't she just the cutest?” Willow turned to look at her boyfriend, who appeared to be deep in thought. She nudged him gently, snapping him out of his trance. “What're we gonna name her?”

 

“Mmh, uh,” Wilson shook his head. “Did you have any ideas?” 

 

“No, not really…”

 

Willow was rarely presented the opportunity to name things. In fact, she always declined the offer when given the chance to name things. It just wasn’t important, and she couldn't find herself caring about names. But this was different, and when she finally gave names a thought, she found that they usually sounded stupid in her head. 

 

Thankfully, Wolfgang spoke up. “How about Ember?” 

 

Wilson clasped his hands. “Oh! That’s lovely.” 

 

“It’s perfect!” Willow agreed. It was cute, short, and fiery! Just like her.

 

She rolled the name on her tongue, liking how it sounded.

 

* * *

 

From then on, Ember did not leave Wilson’s side. 

 

As promised, he resided in the edges of their camp, far enough that Ember’s fires wouldn’t cause mass destruction. Each day Willow visited her small, adorable little family. 

 

Wilson’s makeshift camp appeared to be in no way comfortable, but it seemed to have successfully served its one purpose: taking care of Ember. 

 

It was cozy during the harsh winter nights. Ember’s gooey lava-shell seemed to encompass the camp in a nice, warm glow. Needless to say, Willow felt a lot happier coming to visit. The smile on her face was infectious. Being here was way better than staying at camp where everybody argued all the time.

 

Here, it felt...like a home. Was this what homes always felt like? Warm, and safe, and loving? It all felt so  _ strange  _ to her. Willow couldn't help but be jealous of all the other survivors who had wonderful childhoods. 

 

But they had all experienced that in the past. She was experiencing this  _ now. _

 

Gee, she sure missed out! 

 

Right now, she was leaning into Wilson’s embrace and watching the fire with much interest. Their baby was too focused on chewing a piece of burnt lumber to pay attention to her drowsy parents. 

 

Willow gave the top of Ember’s head a little rub. “Didja feed her yet?” 

 

He nodded his head and it tickled her neck slightly. “This evening,” he said, stifling a yawn. “And I’m beginning to run low on ashes.”

 

Like the Dragonfly, Ember had acquired a taste for ashes. While they were generally easy to obtain, she was a very hungry baby, and they’d go through piles quickly.

 

“I can get you more tomorrow,” she offered, and then said, “I think Ember wants to play!”

 

The arm around her waist tightened by just a touch. He mumbled something under his breath, creating a tiny puff of smoke in the chilly winter air. Wilson did look pretty tired. Maybe she could come up with a different solution?

 

“Hey,” she rubbed the curve of his back, “I can take Ember somewhere if you wanna get some sleep.” 

 

He’d been working hard all day and night, having managed both chores and babysitting. It was the least she could do for being absent. 

 

Wilson seemed to agree with this. “If it’s no trouble.”

 

Gently, Willow untangled herself from his grasp and slipped into her winter gear. She lifted the lavae into her loving arms and turned to wave.

 

“Goodnight, Wilson!” She looked down at the baby. “Can you say ‘goodnight’, Ember?”

 

Ember buzzed happily, making excited chirps. 

 

“Good girl!” 

 

Leaving Wilson to rest, she began the short trek back to camp. Heavy snow crunched under her boots as she wallowed through the deep piles of snow that had quickly piled up in the short weeks since winter began. 

 

She could see the large flames from camp casting shadows along the stone walls, dancing wildly. The other survivors must’ve been feeling the bitter chill, as it was unlike them to have built up such a hearty fire. Maybe she could come back later, when all business was said and done. Roasting something over the fire  _ did _ sound nice.

 

Willow walked past the kitchen, where some of her friends were cooking up a quick midnight meal. They did not pay any mind to the lava baby in her arms, thankfully; she didn't feel like explaining anything to them right now. 

 

Upon approaching Ms. Wickerbottom’s room, Willow brought her knuckles to the wooden gate and knocked two or three times. 

 

“Ms. Wickerbottom?”

 

The lady in question was sitting in what looked to be the makeshift rocking chair Willow helped build with her Girl Scout skills. 

 

Ms. Wickerbottom looked up from her book and smiled a sweet grandma smile. “Hello, dear! Are you in need of assistance?”

 

She nodded her head and opened the gate to let herself in. Ember’s glowing eyes searched the area curiously, having rarely been in camp. She squirmed in Willow’s arms, wanting to be put down.

 

“I- Ember, no,” she pried her finger out of the lavae’s nibbling mouth. “Um. I was wondering if you would be able to watch over Ember for a few hours! Wilson and I really need sleep.”

 

She fixed her glasses. “Ah, not fully prepared for the difficulties of raising a child yet, I see. Of course, dear! I will see to it that Ember is safe under my care.”

 

Willow’s eyes narrowed. “‘Not fully prepared’? What’s that supposed t’mean?” Ember was perfectly fine! Willow thought she and Wilson were great parents. 

 

Ms. Wickerbottom chuckled, amused by the sight of Willow’s tiny, confused pout. “I’m just teasing, sweetie.” She put on gloves that were clearly meant for handling hot materials.

 

Willow carefully handed the baby to her, to see how Ember would react to someone other than her parents holding her. She didn’t seem to pay any mind, and bounced happily in the old woman’s hands. 

 

“She really likes you!” Willow beamed and blew Ember a kiss. “Bye now, baby. Be a good little burninator for Ms. Wickerbottom!” 

 

She waved again to the librarian and once parted ways, sighed in relief. She was so tired, and she didn't even do most of the work! Willow could only imagine how Wilson felt. The dork was probably in a deep sleep by now, dreaming about science or something. 

 

Aw, she did miss him and Ember real badly, though. She’d have to wait to see them tomorrow morning!

 

For now, Willow decided to gather charcoal since their supplies were getting low. Forest fires were much prettier at night, anyway. It stood out colorfully against the darkness, something she just couldn't appreciate as much in the daylight. The fires were almost hypnotizing. 

 

Grabbing her sharp, golden axe, Willow made her way towards one of the camp’s many exits.

 

There was a soft, murmuring voice she could hear through the trees. She stopped walking - the crunching snow under her feet was very loud - and moved closer to the source of the noise.

 

Moving one of the snow-covered branches that obstructed her view, Willow could see Ms. Wickerbottom rocking slightly in her chair, and reading a book aloud to Ember, who sat obediently in her lap. After Willow had left, she had made cookies sprinkled with ashes that Ember was now feasting on. She looked like a fat, happy baby. 

 

What a cutie! Willow, feeling much better about leaving for her trip after seeing that Ember was in tremendously good hands, continued onwards through the deathly chill of night.

 

* * *

 

“Willow! Willow!”

 

Wilson burst into camp, clutching his side and panting too heavily for proper speech. It startled the rest of the camp into silence and everyone stared with wide, open eyes. 

 

Willow came forward. She approached Wilson, catching him with her arms as he clumsily stumbled into her. 

 

“Wilson, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” She looked over his body for any signs of injury and found none. The side of his ribcage that he appeared to be sheltering was probably from his spontaneous run and not something like a gaping wound.

 

Willow looked around. “Where’s Ember?” And why was he in camp when he was supposed to be out in the fields taking care of her?

 

Frustrated with his lack of response, Willow huffed and lightly pinched his skin. “Answer me!” 

 

He held something dark in his hands and was trying to nudge it towards her own. Willow took the object and couldn't believe her eyes. 

 

“Wilson…this isn’t, it’s not-” 

 

He wrapped his hands around hers, sweeping his thumbs over the backs of her hands. Freezing cold, like the snowfall around them. The thing in her palms possessed a faint warmth, but it was receding quickly.

 

“L-Look,” he said, chest rising up and down as he struggled to regulate his breathing, “she’s metamorphosing!” 

 

Willow blinked once, twice, at the solid hunk of rock, her eyes tracing the outline of the indistinct shape until she understood what she was looking at. It mapped Ember’s structure perfectly. 

 

The survivors whispered to each other, intrigued but confused by what was going on. “Her death was bound to happen,” she heard Wendy murmur ever so quietly. 

 

No. No, Ember wasn’t dead. Willow refused to believe so.

 

Her eyes met Wilson’s. He was grinning like a madman. “What do you mean? She’s not...dead, is she?” She asked, uncertain about how to feel about her daughter's new form. 

 

Wilson looked taken aback at the notion. “N-No! Of course not,” he reassured her, although it did not do much good. “She’s in a cocoon. Ember’s still alive, see?”

 

No, she didn't see. The chilled cocoon in her hands didn't  _ feel  _ alive, but if what Wilson said was true, then she’d have to trust him and his stupid scientific theory...even if it didn't always make sense. Ember wasn’t going to turn into a butterfly! 

 

Willow pouted. Her uncertainty was overwhelming and she knew Wilson could sense it. 

 

“I have an idea,” he said slowly. “Do you remember the rock den? Where we saw the tiny critters?”

 

She nodded. The place with all the cute baby animals! How could she forget?

 

“W-We can go back there and see if it’ll hasten the transformation process!” His hands moved to grip her shoulders, a big dorky grin on his face. 

 

Admittedly, seeing him so confident  _ did  _ manage to calm her down. Just a little bit. She refused to see her baby leave her so quickly, and it didn’t hurt to believe that there was hope somewhere out there. The magic on this island could bring people back to life! Couldn’t it bring back animals, too?

 

“Mmn.... okay, we’ll do it.” Willow stroked the top of Ember’s head with her finger, feeling her new silky texture. “Can we bring some chili?”

 

“Yes! Here- let me go make some.” Wilson scurried off to the kitchen and began looting through the fridge. 

 

While Ember’s diet mainly consisted of ashes, Willow sometimes snuck her treats. She particularly took a liking to spicy chili, and Willow hoped that the snack would have a scent strong enough to coax her out of her cocoon. 

 

At dawn, the pair set off into the wilderness, with Ms. Wickerbottom and that jerk, Maxwell, following shortly behind. The trek would take a couple of hours through the strong, frigid blizzard. Willow huddled closer to Wilson as they walked. There was an uncomfortable tension in the air, clouded with fear and concern coming from all members the group. Willow didn't like it, not one bit.

 

“How did she...um.. freeze, anyway?” Willow asked, breaking the ice. It was hard to hear her own voice. The blizzard muffled everything around her. 

 

They were close enough, anyway. Wilson held her free hand and gave it a squeeze. 

 

“Ice hounds,” he said, raising his voice slightly, “They were chasing after Wendy. I killed them but they died too close to Ember. It all happened so quickly...I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Willow.”

 

He seemed disappointed in himself. Ugh, that wasn’t fair! He did nothing wrong. It was the right thing to do, even if something maybe-unfortunate happened because of it. 

 

She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Don’t beat yourself up!” There was optimism returning to her tone again. “It’s not your fault! You didn’t know.” 

 

He sighed. Behind them, the faint voices of the two older members chatting away at what was to come. Willow wondered why Maxwell offered to come along when he knew perfectly well that the couple did not want him here. 

 

But Ms. Wickerbottom would have insisted that Maxwell was trying to redeem himself, blah blah blah. They were immature, and all that other stupid stuff. 

 

So, fine. Maxwell came along because he also wanted to see what would become of Willow’s cocooned daughter. In a way, she thought that he felt like a guardian figure to the lavae or something. He was really weird, that man.

 

When they approached the snow-covered den, time seemed to slow down. Huddling around the rock, Willow and Wilson came forward, holding their bearings.

 

She felt a twinge of nervousness building in her chest. Would this really work?

 

She looked to Wilson. His gaze was calm and focused. To a scientist, this would just be another experiment, of course. “Ready?”

 

Willow nodded. Together, they brought forth their items, placing it inside the den. 

 

For awhile, nothing happened. 

 

Willow began to expect that perhaps they had done something wrong, as they had summoned critters here previously without ever any difficulty. But then, Ember’s cocooned form began to wriggle as the rock began to split, and she struggled to break free from her solidified mold. The group watched in suspense as a tiny creature appeared from the cocoon, squeaking and whimpering at the harsh winds that harassed its fragile body. 

 

If there was any sign of hesitance before, Willow quickly disregarded it.

 

She stumbled forward and reached out to pet the creature. It didn’t bite or scratch at her hands, and instead nuzzled the fuzziness of her glove.

 

“Ember?” Willow said, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. She looked different than the bigger, badder dragonfly she had killed in order to acquire the egg. 

 

Ember looked more ‘dragon’ than ‘fly’. She was a pretty shade of crimson and pink, with a trio of horns atop her head and more dragon-like features. Her scales were smooth and her spines sharp. Ember burped, having eaten their offering of spicy chili, and puffed a little fireball into the cold winter air. 

 

She was still the same silly baby, but with even more fire! Now Ember was trying to chew on one of Willow’s fingers - something she did as a tiny lavae. There was no doubt that this was the same Ember.

 

“She’s so beautiful!” Wilson knelt beside her and joined with petting their daughter, scratching the top of Ember’s head with a wide, happy smile. “Look, she’s got my hair!” 

 

Wait...hair? Oh. Duh. The three horns atop her head resembled his own tufts of fluffy hair.  _ That _ resemblance was pretty uncanny.

  
Then Wilson pointed to the lower two horns sticking out against the sides of her face. “And she’s got yours, too.”

 

Willow peered at the squirming baby and counted a total of five horns. “Aww. It’s like we were made for each other!”  

 

She heard sniffling. Wilson was rubbing at his bright blue eyes. 

 

“Do you wanna hold her?” 

 

He looked shocked. She didn't know why. Fathers usually held their babies. Maybe he wasn't used to being regarded as one.

 

His quick nod shook off the snow that was collecting in his hat. Gently, she handed the dozing dragon child to him, and moved his hand up to where her head was, to cradle it. She could tell he was shaking real badly.

 

“Careful, she’s sleeping!” Willow chided with a quiet hiss. 

 

Without warning, Ember abruptly stopped her playtime and had fallen asleep in her arms, snoring lightly. Her tail twitched cutely. She looked like she was having pleasant dreams.

 

This was... nice. It would be nicer if it wasn't snowing cold arctic like no tomorrow, and it would be even nicer if Maxwell was a hundred feet away and not awkwardly breathing over their shoulders. 

 

Still, it was nice.

 

Willow scratched below Ember’s chin and smiled upon hearing her small, confused squeaks. 

 

“I love her,” said Wilson. “I love you.”

 

A smile and a sweet touch, and she opened her mouth to respond but the withering voice that came out was not her own. 

 

“Say, Higgsbury… don’t you have an affinity for bat bats?” 

 

The trio simultaneously looked up from their touching moment to glare fire into Maxwell’s eyes. He backed down, waving his arms in excuse. It was true, no one cared. 

 

There was a soft, wrinkly hand on her shoulder that snapped Willow out of her I-hate-Maxwell reverie. Ms. Wickerbottom smiled as she took another peek at the baby, who still occupied all of Wilson’s love and attention. 

 

“Let’s head home before it gets too cold,” she suggested. 

 

Willow nodded her head eagerly. Her skin was freezing! The thought of starting a hot, blazing bonfire exhilarated her and warmed her somewhat, but real fires were better than fake dreamy ones. 

 

She tugged on Wilson’s coat with a big, excited grin etched on her face. “Let’s go!”

 

* * *

 

The rain was almost unbearable this time around. 

 

After having suffered through a deathly winter, the group was soon met with another terrible fate. A fate with wet, slippery everything and frogs that constantly fell from the sky. 

 

Willow donned a rain hat instead of her usual coat. She had found it in the back of the wardrobe and thought it looked cute. The hat looked even cuter when it poured water into someone else’s eyes.

 

Right now she was in camp with a roaring fire all to herself. Her scientist was gone, probably doing something stupid in the woods or bleeding to death or both. Ember was exploring the camp, playing with whatever junk she could get her dragon claws on as she flew from room to room. 

 

Willow trusted her baby enough to let her fly around wherever she pleased. It wasn't like Ember to stray far from her, anyway. 

 

But as she poked her stick into the fire, there would be a growl every now and then. Hmm. She oughtta go check it out before Ember got herself into trouble!

 

Raindrops splashed gently against her yellow hat as she turned her head, searching rapidly for the wyvernling. She paused in her search, waiting in silence, like an animal sneaking on prey. 

 

She heard another growl coming from behind the walls of her room and tiptoed as quietly as she could manage. 

 

When she peeked around the corner, she saw Ember gnawing on something clunky.

 

Ughhh, not again! Was she teething or something? That’s what babies did, right?

 

Willow pulled on the foreign object in Ember’s mouth, only to have Ember tug harder, like it was some sorta nasty game of tug o’ war.

 

“Em, no! Bad!” She scolded, slipping the toy from her jaws with a final  _ pop! _

 

Willow stared at her prize in shock as a piece of the toy whizzed past them.

 

Something had broken off. Willow held the drool-covered object by the tip of her fingers. It looked like the stupid robot toy that WX-78 seemed to cherish so much. How’d Ember even find this?

 

“Groooooss! It's all yucky! They’re not gonna want this back.” Especially when Hal’s head had popped off and was now hiding somewhere in the grass. Maybe she could chuck the remains over the cliff later. Or even better, throw it into the fire and watch it burn! Hal was nasty now, why would that hunk-a junk wanna keep it?

 

She tsked. Ember was usually biting things these days, but never other people’s toys! Aww, now she’d have to cover her tracks or else everyone would disapprove of her. 

 

“You can eat this when you're bigger, sweetie. You’ll choke!” 

 

Ember stared up with shimmering green eyes that shone with naivety and innocence. She burped once, releasing several puffs of smoke into the air, signaling that, yes, she did in fact eat something. So adorable! 

 

Hal  _ did  _ happen to be missing an arm, too. Oops! Oh well. That was none of her business.

 

Willow scooped up the baby. Ember found a comfortable spot on her mother’s shoulder and nuzzled into one of her pigtails. 

 

She wondered if Ember would someday grow to be as big as the Dragonfly. Willow could have her own fire-breathing dragon! She could train Ember to bite wrinkly old magic men and bad robots and to set humongous forest fires.  

 

“Guess we’ll have to hide this somewhere, huh?” 

 

She glanced at the robot covered in baby dragon drool. 

 

“Yep. Nasty.”

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know why i wrote this


End file.
